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Seems that we have an active plagiarist on Fan Fic Net robbing off fic from Deviantart net. I've a crop of fics on Devi. They're all done as story-per-day; some for Dalekweek & some not but all done with a superfast pen & no sense of sanity. They're getting posted over here as a safeguard; so any of my Lev Fics on Devi pre twenty-fifteen are likely gonna be repeats of Fan Fic Net. Just a hint in case you decide to visit me over there.
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Count Volger spoke dryly: "You had best save your breath Aleksander; I have indeed noted that our course has altered, that we are descending rapidly in mid-ocean but I have not the least intention of revealing to you where the last of our bullion is secreted. Run and find that plague of a midshipman to find what is afoot."
Alek didn't even spare a breath to reply, with a sharp glare at the Count he was out the door and flying down the corridors where he all but cannoned into Dylan who quickly seized the young noble by the shoulders and hustled him along strange corridors; back and down into unknown regions of the Leviathan; reeling out instructions and explanations the meanwhile:
"We're still light on ballast and hydrogen after that scrape in the mountains; the ship is barely under control right now, even with those noisy Clanker engines you've clamped on us. She's building up hydrogen handily enough but she can't make more ballast; so the Captain's taken us out to sea, where the cold air will sink us low enough to take on seawater for ballast. I'm off to the darkdome to rig that but its rightly a two man job ... so you're volunteering."
By this time they'd reached a dark corridor at the far end of the ship. Dylan flung open a locker door to reveal a set of baggy, tan coveralls: "Get out of your clothes and into these; leave your regular kit here or the syrups will soak thru and ruin them": the middy instructed then turned to a locker on the opposite wall for the other set of coveralls. Dylan was changed and ready well before Alek had a chance to look around from his locker and the wrestling match he'd just engaged in with the unfamiliar garb. Now Dylan led the way thru a door at the end of the corridor into a dim lit room at the very aft of the ship, packed with bottles and hoses of a wide variety of hues.
Dylan flung open a hatch the floor and rapidly began unreeling hoses and flinging them out into the air; Alek began to do the same, under order's from the middy. The noble grabbed the open end of the nearest hose and dragged the unreeling snake to the very lip of the hatch then reeled back in shock himself as he saw where he was. The room was at the lowest, rearmost part of the ship, where the side of the Leviathan curved around to become the underbelly of the beasty. There was dire darkness all around, no cabin lights above or to either side and only the distant glow of strangely tinted globes some way below.
A firm hand yanked him back so hard he toppled to the decking, under a torrent of words from Dylan: "Mind yourself, you dafty, no need for you to be down in the water with the squitters. Their job is to bob around and gulp up as much water as they can. When they're full they turn on their lights and we pour a sugary treat down the side of the hose and that triggers the beasties to spurt the water up into our tanks. See, every light has its own mix; the shades on the bottles match the shades of the beasties ... that's so they don't all go swarming after the same hose. Aye, I know its hard dark back here but it has to be so we can see the glows; leave the hatch work to me and you start handing over the bottles as I call them out."
The plan worked well, the two soon got into a steady rhythm and were rewarded by an almost continuous rumble and crash as water surged up the hoses and into the tanks that ran over their heads and along the spine of the ship. It was hypnotic and lulling and almost succeeded in washing away the ranklement Alek felt at being relegated to what he couldn't help feeling was the stablehand's post ... at the rear and out of the way. His ire was dormant but not extinct and it surged to the fore as he heard Dylan call: "There's a wryneck in one of the hoses, I'm going out to right it; wait back till I'm in again" and with that the middy had curled thru the hatchway and out of sight to leave Alek feeling most outclassed and unmanly besides Dylan's alacrity. Alek fumed: he'd been up and down the ratlines often enough by now that he knew there wasn't anything he couldn't handle; he was every whit as good as Dylan on the outside of the ship, just a margin slower. Certainly Dylan wouldn't begrudge a helping hand if he found Alek alongside him, the noble thought ... as he impetuously swung himself out of the hatchway to receive a robust reminder that he'd a lot yet to learn about airship dynamics.
From this point in the ship's geography the only way to proceed was upside-down. Alek had a short, startled sight of Dylan hooked by the knees, before his desperate hands entirely failed to catch hold of anything at all and he plummeted down towards the inimical ocean with a yell of shock. Deryn barely registered what it was that had come hurtling out of the hatchway to be lost in the sea; it was only the sound of Alek's voice that gave any indication of the catastrophe unfolding. Making full use of the vocabulary she'd learnt as a middy Deryn wriggled her legs out of the ratlines; hanging head-down as she had been it took little enough adjustment to turn her fall into a dive but even so she struck the waves with a body-jarring, breath-robbing impact before she cut beneath the waves. The syrup soaked work-clothes already clung to her and as they saturated with seawater they became a veritable deathtrap, whatever the cost to her secret Deryn knew she had to shuck them or pay an even higher price ... their two lives.
Unencumbered by garments Deryn struck downwards as far and fast as she could, she'd little enough idea what kind of a swimmer Alek was but falling as he had he'd have made no clean dive but had to have hit the water like a bag of ballast and be stunned and sinking at the very best. Cleaving the deep, chill waters she sought for a glimpse of Alek in his light toned coveralls; the darkness barely illumined by the rainbow glows of the squitter beasties above her. Ultimately it was her eyes that betrayed her: she'd clung on as her lungs began to catch fire from the lack of oxygen; resisted the mad, protesting clamour, of her hammering heart; kept her lips clamped tight shut (at the desperate urge to take an impossible breath) — but when her vision dimmed and spots swam before her … she knew she'd no choice but to surface, to take a heaving gulp of air, into her sobbing lungs. It did not mean, could not mean that she would not plunge again and this time she was rewarded by the sight of Alek swimming with all his might, against the drag of his coveralls, urgently seeking air with the last of his strength pushing himself to his limits ... downwards!
He was completely disorientated and dazed enough that it was several moments before he understood that the unseen figure grasping him from behind had to be Dylan attempting a rescue but the middy was going the wrong way; Alek was sure he was being dragged deeper and thrashed and fought till Dylan almost despaired of getting them safe to the surface. It was only an instant of inspiration, as Alek's cuff tore in the struggle, that gave a way out of the dilemma. Ripping up from the tear in Alek's sleeve Dylan tore away a strip of fabric and bound it tight around the noble's eyes; the sudden, absolute darkness stilled Alek and he gave himself up to the guidance of his friend and with that it was but briefwork to make the surface where they hung in the swell till breath returned to their bodies. Alek made to remove the blindfold but an urgent hand clamped down on him, followed by a croaked order: "Barking spiders, don't be a dafty, you'll only get turned around again; I'll guide you ... here's a hose; go up it like you would a rope climb, I'll be right behind you."
It was hard, aching work for sorely tried muscles with many a pause and many a push from Dylan but at last Alek felt his head bump the underside of the ship and he hauled himself weakly thru the edge of the hatch and collapsed, retching seawater copiously to the deck. He'd not entirely recovered when he felt the blindfold yanked away to show Dylan standing over him with a wry expression on his face as he glanced at the puddle around Alek and commented: "Aye well, seems it isn't only the beasties that can pump seawater." The middy helped Alek to his feet and sat him down against the backwall by the bottles then returned to work, the tanks still had to be filled after all; this time Alek felt no urge to leap into action.
Alone by the hatch Deryn stuffed the blindfold into her pocket; it had saved the day in more ways than one ... how could she ever have explained to her family that she'd thrown her facade by skinny dipping!
